


Letters of Sadness

by Ark666



Category: Left 4 Dead (Video Games), Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: Character Death, Delusions, Letters, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, POV First Person, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 00:38:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16051859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ark666/pseuds/Ark666
Summary: Nick writes letters as sort of a diary while he's depressed, then Ellis writes letters to Nick when he's unconscious.





	Letters of Sadness

**Author's Note:**

> Depression and Suicide warning trigger. Like a massive one. 
> 
> I have no witty remark. I spent almost three hours writing this as vent work. No I did not double check it, but if you have a question or gripe please leave it in the comments.
> 
> "Life is full of misery, loneliness, and suffering – and it’s all over much too soon." 
> 
> -Woody Allen

Dear Whoever,

When I was younger I believed that the world wasn’t big, people were mean, and everything was dangerous. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

The world is a big place, not everything is dangerous, most of all people aren’t mean. They’re just oblivious and self absorbed. People come off mean because their too caught up in their own personal affairs and they believe that they’re more important than anyone else. I never understood that. I knew what I was doing was wrong when I’d play poker and scamming people, but I never liked to think of their lives.

Now I’m stuck here with three other people in the middle of fucking nowhere. We missed the helicopter out of the city, and now I’m stuck with a loud mouth, a hick, and someone playing father. I guess this is my payback for what I’ve done.

10/16/2009

 

Dear Whoever,

I figured out that I can write in piece while I’m on second watch, that way everyone is asleep. Guess I like being alone, but I’ve always liked it that way. People lie to you saying how great you are and how much they care about you before they slip the knife into your back. I’ve done that before and I feel really sorry for doing that.

On the second day that we were together, sometime last week, Ellis decided that he wanted to marry the fucking car. A couple of days later he wanted to marry the bitch on the bridge, then he was back to wanting to marry the car again when we had to leave it behind. The kid acts like we’ve been friends forever like his dumb friend Keith. I’m sorry I said that. The kid has more stories than the rest of us put together.

Rochelle and I see eye to eye so far on everything except on how to approach Ellis. She’s kind to his face, but is really nasty behind his back. I mean it’s one thing to be mean to his face and for him to understand it, but it’s another thing to say ‘they meant the flu, not sick in the head sweetie’ with him not understanding the implications of that. I may be mean up front to him, but that’s a bit too much. I’m sorry that I do that. Coach sometimes says that he’s really messed up in the head, but he’s the happiest person I’ve ever known. Is that really so bad?

10/22/2009

 

Dear Whoever,

I hate them all. I hate the zombies, I hate the people I’m with, and I hate myself the most. Why did I have to end up here with them. Rochelle and Coach are what I think 98% of people act and think like. Ellis is in the 1% that are happy, all the fucking time! I’m in the last 1% that know their complete assholes and are jealous of everyone else because we’re never happy. FUCK THEM!!!

I’ve been married a few times already and they can be awful to hear. No, no that’s mean of my to say. I’m sorry.

We’re stuck in the swamps. I don’t think I’ve ever been this physically miserable before. It’s awful. It reminds me of the time my dad took me and my older brother camping. He was a couple years older so my dad let him have some beer. It rained the entire time. My brother ended up getting drunk and wanted the book I was reading at the time so when I refused to give it to him he hit me in the eye with his bottle and threw my book into the pouring rain. I couldn’t stop crying after that. All I could think about is how my book of The Great Gatsby got ruined. My dad yelled at me for crying over a book.

Coach and Rochelle are yelling at me now for complaining about me ruining my suit. Cough, cough, irony. Even more so now that I think about it. Gatsby came from nothing and made it big, and bought all of these nice things to show of his wealth. Like as if he was never poor at all. I bought this really nice and expensive suit to show off my earnings at the table, but like the character I’m just getting shit all over me. Maybe I’m shallow and lonely, but who isn’t. I’m sorry. People who preach about self love hate themselves the most, the funniest people are the most unhappy, the happiest people are the ones who crawled out from hell, and the people who are the most bigoted and homophobic are gay themselves. Usually…….I’m sorry.

10/24/2009

 

Dear Whoever,

Stupid goddamned boat we’re on. I’m sorry. I hate it. I’m sorry. I wish there was a deck of cards at least because I was on my way to another riverboat casino when this all happened. Just my fucking luck. I’m sorry.

Ellis came up to me today and asked if I was alright. I told the kid that I was fine, but I’m not. I want to tell him that I’m sorry. Feel like he knew that because he sat down to talk to me, and we did chat for awhile. It was nice to have the company. I really enjoyed our chat. I let him talk most of the time because I felt guilty talking about myself because it would take away from what he had to say. He told me more about himself and his friends. Occasionally he would ask about me, but I only gave short answers to it so he would talk more. I’m sorry. I don’t feel like talking, I want to be alone, but I don’t want to be at the same time. He’s alive, I’m not. I’m drowning. I could feel the heat radiating off of his body despite how far away he sat. I noticed all of the little movements that he made while talking. Sometimes I’d space out, not remembering that I did at all until after. I’m sorry that I spaced out. I’m tired.

10/25/2009

 

Dear Whoever,

I’m about to turn into one of these damn witches soon if I have to see another one of these damn things cry...though, I’m slightly jealous that they get to cry out in the open, but I have to wait until I’m all alone or be questioned. I don’t want them to worry about me. That would be wrong of me to do that to them especially Ellis. I’m very sorry.

Those simple slips of judgement. Ellis asked me how I am today. “How ya doin Nick? Are you good?”

I stupidly answered without thinking “I don’t know.” because I was lost in my own mind at the time. He frowned at me.

He said then “You’ve been quieter lately.”

I turned to him and smiled “I’m fine.” What a big lie that is for three little words. His frown deepened. 

I’m sorry.

10/28/2009

 

Dear Whoever,

What leads a person to want to end their life? I’m not sure what it is. Maybe it’s a series of small events that lead up to it? Maybe it’s one big thing that triggers it? Or maybe it’s the apathy that makes you not care about your life anymore? I think not feeling anything helps that, and being constantly like why!!!!!!!!!!!! to everyone that is happy. Also being jealous of the dead. Being dead is easier. You don’t have to think. You don’t have to feel. You don’t have to move. You don’t have to do anything because you’re dead, and when you’re dead you’re nothing. You simply just stop existing and that’s it. Nothing. It is nothingness. I long for that nothingness because it beats the pain of being alive.

We’re in the stupid gas station and dinner combo. Only in the south. Ellis is cozied up to me fast asleep. I can feel his pulse in my left arm. I wonder what’s it like to be truly alive. I guess I’ll find out tomorrow. I know that it’ll hurt him, but I can’t help myself to be selfish just this once. I’ll let myself soar for a few seconds before hitting the ground. Oh what it’ll be like to be alive for just a few seconds before it’s all over.

I just wanted to say I’m sorry really quick for being such an awful person for being a mean cranky bitch all of the time. I also want to say sorry for the pain I’m putting you all in, especially you Ellis. I’m sorry. I just want the lullabye that is sleep to take away all of my pain. I will feel better when I am gone. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Im sorry. Im sorry. Im sory. Im soryy. Imm sorry. Im soorru. Im sorry im sorru im sory im sorry. Sorry I’m sorry.

10/28/2009

 

Dear Nick,

I hope you wake up soon. You’ve been passed out all night since you let yourself fall from the third flight. I think the only reason why you’re alive is because you fell into all of the mud because of the hurricane. I read all of your letters and they’re all really sad. I didn’t think that I could do anymore to help you, but I feel guilty now because I feel like I should have done more to prevent you from doing this to yourself. Just don’t leave me alone. Coach and Rochelle have eachother, but I really only have you. Please just stay here a little longer with me.

 

Dear Nick, 

I carried you to the next safehouse. Coach says that you’re a lost cause and that if you don’t wake up soon you won’t ever. I know that’s what you want, but I just want you to stay here a little bit longer with me. I miss you. I want you to know that I think I really like you so please stay. 

You know in all of those stories about Keith, Dave, and my Ma there was one I didn’t tell you about. It was the time my ma came over to our house and started to eat Keith like there was no tomorrow. I couldn’t move from where I was. Dave had to kill the zombie of my mother, and he put Keith out of his misery. Dave turned shortly after. He had no bites, but I convinced myself that that wasn’t possible for him to turn into one because my mind tricked me into believing that he’d gotten bit. I ran out and got to my car and made it to the garage to make the truck that I talked about before.

I hope you feel better and wake up soon. I believe people choose to die because they can’t handle anymore of life’s stress. They run out of ways to cope with it. Anyways I love you.

 

Dear Nick,

Coach is telling me that I have to leave and leave you behind. I stopped feeling the heat radiate off of you sometime overnight. That doesn’t mean that you’re dead though. You’re only still just asleep. He’s banging on the door now. I’ll make sure that we bring you with us. OH GOOOD HE’S BREAKING IT DOWN!!!

 

Dear Nick,

Coach tore me away from you’re sleeping frame. He’d thrown me over his shoulder as if I was a toddler throwing a fit. I kinda was, but he forced us to leave you behind. I know that you’re alive, and he just doesn’t see that. He’s telling me that you’re gone and not coming back. Rochelle and Coach tied me up and put me in the freezed and sealed it up while they contacted Virgil. 

It wasn't very fun. I heard them fight off the undead until they came back and got me. They were in a rush so Coach carried me. When we were on the boat they took the duct tape off of my mouth so I could talk. They kept trying to tell me that you’re dead. I don’t think you are. You were alive more than a few days ago. You never seemed more happy than you did the morning that you walked off the roof. You looked at peace. I wish I could’ve given that to you. I’m sorry that I couldn’t have done it sooner.

Virgil helped them pin me down onto the bed. I don’t understand why they did that. My left arm is cuffed to the bed frame so I could still have some mobility.

“Son, I’m just worried that you’ll jump off of the boat to go see a body” Coach tried to tell me, but I think it’s bullshit.

“IT’S BULLSHIT THAT YOU TWO LEFT NICK BEHIND!!!” I yelled back at him. I felt the tears fall from face. They were warm and tasted salty when they went into my mouth. They left me alone after that. I hear Rochelle crying a little bit with Coach trying to comfort her. Virgil is saying I just need some time. Time for what? I’m fine! They’re being the weird ones!

 

Dear Nick,

I broke my wrist and hand getting out of the cuff. Rochelle and Coach couldn’t say anything when they saw me after they heard me screaming. Truthfully I didn’t know I was screaming until I felt how raw my throat was. That was a day ago. I’m not aloud to be alone anymore unless I’m in the bathroom. There’s nothing in here, but I managed to bring the notebook and pen in here. After I did that Coach rushed over to me and pinned me to the bed. He grabbed the arm that I hurt and turned it on purpose to get me to stop struggling. I was wailing as he straddled me and grabbed my other wrist to pin me down. Rochelle and Virgil cuffed me at all four points of the bed to keep me down when I’m not going to the bathroom. Coach went for another extra unnecessary step to tie my torso to the bed with rope. I can’t move my left hand when it’s like that without screaming.

I’ll try to get out soon so that I can go back and find you. 

Love Ellis

 

Dear Nick,

They found the notebook with all of our letters. I thought I was doing a good job of keeping it hidden around my boot under my coveralls, but it came loose as my ankle was being cuffed back down. I did manage to get it back and hide it again. It’s in the pillow.

I think that they were crying because of what you wrote. I’m being normal, they aren’t. You aren’t dead. I’m sure of it. They’re being delusional. Coach came back to grab the notebook but couldn’t find it. Oh I should probably tell you Nick that they don’t cuff my right wrist anymore because it’s too swollen up to do that now. I can’t feel the pain anymore in it, and I can barely move it, but it works to get the job done. 

They’re currently talking about cutting it off because my hand looks like one of the infected hands. They aren’t wrong because it looks really bad.

I can’t wait to see you again. It’s been about a week since they made me leave you behind. When we meet up again I’m going to tell you my feelings for you then let you read the letters that I wrote to you. Then I hope you’ll call me El like you normally do with a kiss on the top of my head and you hold me and tell me that everything is going to be ok.

 

Dear Nick,

I have a really bad headache and my entire arm hurts. My hand is white with shades of violet, blue, and green throughout it. Well, my entire body is pale, cool, and clammy. I’m even throwing up water. Rochelle keeps talking about antibiotics, and Coach is talking in a hushed tone too low for me to hear. They don’t care that I have the notebook anymore. You talked about how you wanted to feel alive even if it was just for a few seconds. I want too as well. I’ve felt alive many of times, but I don’t think I have much more time left. There really isn’t much time for me left. I really want to see you, but I think I’m going to die from my hand being dead. I won’t get to have you hold me in your arms again when you think that I’m asleep, or how you whisper that you were just kidding about all of those mean things that you’ve said to me before. I love you and I can’t wait to see you again.

 

Report #2943

Female Rochelle age 29, Male Roger age 44

Rochelle and Roger who went by Coach were in a group of four people originally. The two deceased being Ellis 23, and Nick early-mid 30s. They started in Savanna and made their way to New Orleans. Nick committed suicide during a supply run, dead on impact according to the other two. Ellis went crazy after leading him into believing the man to be alive despite touching the body for a couple of days. A day after he was forced away he broke his hand and wrist causing the tissue in his hand to die and get infected. He died from septic shock shortly upon arrival. They’d said that the last time he was conscious they let him out into the wind. Blind, and having auditory hallucinations. They said that he’d felt alive.


End file.
